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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26108161">West of The Mississippi River</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilas/pseuds/soleilas'>soleilas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>100wordsprompts, Cowboys, Headcanon, Historical Hetalia, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Mississippi River, Random prompt, Reconstruction era, Texas, Wild West era, personal headcanon, prompt was west</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:29:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26108161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilas/pseuds/soleilas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>Headcanon: The compromise of 1877 settled the differences between Southern Democrats and Republicans, ended the Reconstruction Era, and allowed Rutherford Hayes to become the 19th president of The United States of America. Unfortunately, the comprise seemed to throw Alfred under the bus. He was banned from going east of the Mississippi River, and it lead to him watching history like one of his own people rather than influencing it with the government.</p><p>Random prompt eight: west.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>West of The Mississippi River</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Headcanon: The compromise of 1877 settled the differences between Southern Democrats and Republicans, ended the Reconstruction Era, and allowed Rutherford Hayes to become the 19th president of The United States of America. Unfortunately, the comprise seemed to throw Alfred under the bus. He was banned from going east of the Mississippi River, and it lead to him watching history like one of his own people rather than influencing it with the government.</p><p>Random prompt eight: west.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Independence, Missouri</strong><br/>
<strong>April 4, 1877</strong>
</p><p>"Mister Jones, it is time." Alfred jerked out of his thoughts as the man standing next to him, spoke. Around him, a group of men stood; they all worked in the government somehow, most in the Congress, but the new president had sent his vice president in his stead. It wouldn't be safe for the president to travel out here anyways. </p><p>Alfred had been kneeling next to the small wagon he'd purchased, and as he stood, he brushed the dirt from the road off his worn trousers. </p><p>"I guess it is." He murmured, his glasses slipping down his nose with the sweat that had begun to build up as the sun started to rise. Exhaling as if to breath out the nervousness that settled in the bottom of his stomach, it wasn't very effective as he still felt like he was going to vomit his breakfast any moment, he glanced between the ten men.</p><p>The deal that had been sorted out between the two main fighting political parties had handed Alfred the stick's short end. He had no voice in the matter, which sucked for him, and in the end, he had been forced to agree to their terms. For the greater good, they whispered, for your people. He knew it would have been necessary; he wouldn't fight it if it helped the turmoil in his recently reunited country. Besides, the time would pass in a blink of an eye. A decade or so was nothing compared to the centuries he's lived. </p><p>"As we have agreed on, Mister Jones. Your property and all things signed under your name will be looked after until your return. You are to stay west of the Mississippi River and live your life to any means as long as it is in legal bounds. You may not return east of the Mississippi unless dire circumstances force you to or unless someone is sent by either one of the three branches. Do you agree on these terms?"</p><p>Alfred resisted the urge to throw the nearest thing, which happened to be the wagon, but that wasn't going to stop him, and instead nodded. "I've already read and signed the paper, William." </p><p>"Then it is set in stone. We have supplied you for your journey west, but as you leave this city, you will receive no other government contact unless there is a need. Godspeed, Mister Jones." The Vice President made no mention of Alfred's formality, or rather lack of it, and instead curtly ended the conversation. The men standing next to him also spoke, giving advice, warnings, and goodbyes. </p><p>Taking that as his cue to leave and follow the wagon train that he had joined, he wasn't going to make this journey alone. That provided little comfort as he moved past the group of government officials. He almost felt in a way like an explorer, one of the rugged mountain men, or even like Lewis and Clark. Thinking way back, Alfred almost felt like Arthur as he stepped off the docks and headed onto his ships. Even from a young age, Alfred quickly saw the other's gaze of excitement but fear of the unknown. He was the master of his metaphorical sail now. </p><p>It did hurt, it did more than just hurt actually, that his government was leaving him at the side of the road. His purpose of existence was to serve his people, and he had always done it at the side of the government. It was how he was able to help his people, make his influences in history. Now he had just been cast aside like he was nothing. He wasn't sure what to do now, and for once, he couldn't summon the optimism to push through it. Those thoughts seem to cloud his mind and laden him down like a dark storm cloud over the prairies about to pour over the grassy fields.</p><p>
  <strong>~~</strong>
</p><p>Alfred had decided to settle in Texas. He debated on following another wagon train towards the west coast or other settlements along the way, but in the end, he decided on staying in the state. It was close enough in case the government decided to reach out to him; he'd like to see William Wheeler try and go out to California and deliver him a message. The state was different from the hustle and bustle of the east coast. Even from a young child, there had always been a major city near him, and as he played an essential role in the country's government, it was crucial he lived in the city. The wasn't saying that Texas didn't have its big cities. Alfred had taken plenty of trips down to Galveston, and the busy town rivaled many cities back in the east. But more of Texas was open plains and forests. He could stand in one place and see trees stretching in every direction or the blue sky dipping down to meet the blades of wild grasses and crops that stood proudly. It almost gave him a sense of freedom, and he loved it. </p><p>It had taken a few years for Alfred to get over the fact that his government had thrown him to the side. He expected that, but as soon as he started to head out, west Alfred learned that he could influence his people's lives without arguing for laws or listening to Congress debate. This way seemed much more natural. He was helping his people directly; he knew what they needed and how to help. The freedom that came with his banishment seemed to be what he needed. It gave him the chance to be human, not to be America. </p><p>He secured himself some property outside the city of Bandera, and with that, he quickly set out to make a life for himself. He figured if he was going to be out here for a decade or more, He might as well do something with it. It couldn't hurt his future, and it would be nice to secure property in the growing state, especially when it came to the future. Wow, Arthur would be proud of him thinking about the future like this. </p><p>He quickly seized a job as a cowboy, Bandera was the start of Great Western Cattle Trail after all, and it seemed that there was always a need for cowboys, and soon joined plenty of other young men in the playing field (or should I say grazing field)? The choice seemed to fit well. Alfred had an inner spirit that longed to see more of his country, so he saddled up his horse and herded cattle along the trail. </p><p>The freedom and adventure of it all seemed to satisfy him.</p><p>Only a decade later, about 1889, Alfred finally retired from herding cattle to settle down. He managed to set up a ranch of his own with quite the impressive acreage and took up raising his animals. He had a small collection of cattle, cows, horses, chickens, and even a few goats. It wasn't much, but he was once again satisfied. It also wasn't life as a cowboy, it wasn't as exciting, but Alfred enjoyed this lifestyle just as much. </p><p>
  <strong>~~</strong>
</p><p>He seemed to forget about what was happening across the country. News traveled slow, and since he still wasn't allowed across the Mississippi River, he couldn't exactly waltz into the capital for the latest gossip. He was more focused on a local level. He helped the folks of the growing town and even served as sheriff at one point. It was all he could do. </p><p>It wasn't until June of 1894 that a government official approached Alfred. He was busy tending to his horses when someone approached him. The man studied him for a good moment, probably a bit surprised at his youth, before speaking. "Are you Alfred Freeman Jones?"</p><p>"I am, how may I help?"</p><p>"Well sir, I'm William McKinley, and America needs you."</p>
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